


To Be Human

by DarkAlpha67



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Altered Information, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Canon-Typical Violence, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Implied Sexual Content, Implied background relationships, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, It's simply mentioned, James calls Natasha "Natalia", M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mild Sexual Content, Natasha refers to herself as Natalia, Non-consensual female Sterilization, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not really a factor, Past Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Red Room (Marvel), Red Room Training, Some information from comic books, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, natalia romanov - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 19:17:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19184008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Natalia remembered the day she first laid eyes upon him.He had been introduced briskly and coldly by the Handler as Soldat - the Soldier.*The History of James and Natasha. How they found another in the darkness, lost each other, and found another once again.





	To Be Human

**Author's Note:**

> Right so few notes:
> 
> Natalia refers to herself as Natasha and Natalia and switches back. It's purposeful because I think given her perception of herself, Natasha has many roles which she plays and when in the presence of others, she reverts to that persona.
> 
> There is certain triggers which is specific in the end notes, so please be careful when reading. 
> 
> This is my own interpretation of events, so information might not be compliant with Canon.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. <3
> 
> SPREAD LOVE NOT HATE <3

Natalia remembered the day she first laid eyes upon him.

He had been introduced briskly and coldly by the Handler as _Soldat_ \- the Soldier.

She recalled standing amongst the other Widows, hands folded behind her back, spine straight, feet spread, and eyes fixed on the man before her.

He seemed unresponsive to them all, eyes slowly running over the women he would be training, assessing them, analyzing them all as though they were nothing more than numbers on a sheet. The moment those steel grey eyes fell on her, she met the stare without flinching.

She saw no emotions in them.

Emotions were nothing more than a distraction, or it was an opening, she’d been taught, so she didn’t expect to see any in the man’s eyes. They danced over her without pause and her attention returned to her Handler as he continued to inform them the Soldier would be training them all.

“ _Those who are weak will not make it to the end of the day._ ” The Handler, a tall dark-haired man with severe eyes and frozen features, told them in Russia.

Natalia didn’t react.

She’d initially thought of these women as her sisters when she was taken from her home. It took no more than a day for that silly thought to be burned from her mind, leaving behind a scorching mark which remained to this day; a reminder to never get attached.

Attachments meant death.

Death was inevitable, but she would fight until her final breath before she allowed Death to win.

“ _Soldat_.” Her Handler looked at the man.

He didn’t answer. He simply lifted his head, eyes drifting over them all to stare above their heads.

The cold attentive grip his eyes once held vanished and she knew he was no man.

He was nothing.

Simply a soldier.

A killer.

Like her.

 

*

 

They all trained with him and _only_ him.

He was brutal and unforgiving, breaking the bones of the other Widows without blinking an eye.

Behind the security of the windows stood her Handler and Madame B. They were smiling, coldly satisfied as more of the Widow’ fell at the hand of the Soldier.

A glimmer of anger and frustration sparked within Natalia. She took off, her feet light, barely making a sound as she raced across the room.

She lunged for him and he turned in time, metal hand gripping her calf. She bit back a wince as a burning pain exploded in her leg.

She heard a snap as her leg was broken, and her vision whitened as the agony flared up the length of her leg.

She never screamed. She opened her eyes and pushed passed the urge to give into the darkness which was slowly closing in around her vision, threatening to reveal her weakness.

Natalia swung her fist to punch him but he caught her wrist, shoving her arm away before slamming his fist into her chest. Her breath was lost within her body, her lungs tightening as though to suffocate her and a second later he flung her across the room.

She collided with the ground, head slamming against the floor.

A metallic taste filled her mouth and she swallowed the blood down.

Inhaling, Natalia shook her head to rid herself of the dizziness which caused her head to swim as if suspended in air.

Cold grey eyes found her.

Biting back a wince, Natalia forced herself up, stepping down and applying pressure on her broken leg. She blinked and the pain became nothing but a throb.

The Soldier turned with a Widow struggling against his hold, his gleaming metal arm curled around her neck, hand planted on her head. There was a whirling sound and his arm flexed.

The Widow stilled and The Soldier dropped his arm, letting her fall at his feet.

Natalia sneered and took off after him.

 

Later, as they put her under, she closed her eyes, satisfaction filling her when she recalled the look a pride in Madame B’s eyes.

 

*

 

The Soldier remained with them for months.

He trained them all without mercy, relentlessly pushing them past their limits. Only five Widows were broken.

She never saw them again.

Not that she thought she would. 

Natalia never allowed her heart to ponder on the faces she’d never look upon again, allowing her mind to forget them for they were forgettable.

She returned to her room on those nights, no bones broken therefore she didn’t need to be put under. As she laid in her bed, she allowed herself to consider how she would beat him. Her Handlers never told them why he was there, what his purpose was.

He never spoke to any one of them. He only trained them, leaving it to The Widows to learn from their own mistakes.

Mistakes meant Death.

_If you made a mistake, your death was no one’s fault but your own._

Natalia couldn’t remember how long she’d been in the Red Room. They had taken her from her home as a little girl, snatched her from her mother and father and brought her here. She recalled Madame B gripping her face, looking past the tears that ran down her cheeks, ignored Natalia’s pleas to be returned. She remembered the Madame curling a long, talon-like finger around one of Natalia’s red curls.

“Yes. You were made for this.”

 

Natalia didn’t remember much after that. She was injected every day, the small puncture wounds vanishing after a while, before she was put to sleep at every hour.

They spoke to her and struck her when she refused to answer.

They had her repeat words.

Some answers she didn’t know: The name of her parents. Her name. Her age.

Those were the questions she was not meant to know the answers to her.

They asked her what her mission was, who she served, who they were.

Those were the questions she never hesitated when answering.

Natalia forgot those she was meant to.

She was stripped of the little girl who’d been taken and programmed to be the spy she was born to be.

 

*

 

Natalia remembered the first time she ever saw an emotion in the Soldier’s eyes.

They had been training, himself and ten Widows. The Widows had inflicted wounds and bruises of their own, learning from the Soldier as they were meant to.

It was Natalia who had brought the Soldier to his knees.

She felt his next attack as though sensing it from deep within and had ducked in time as his leg swept over her head. She punched him in his stomach, flipped back and away from him. She felt him come up behind her and spun in time to kick him against the jaw.

Her body was strong enough from the injection she’d been given growing up. She felt the force behind the strike and with sharp green eyes she watched as The Soldier’s knee gave out from under him, dropping painfully against the hard floor. His human fist slammed into ground to stop himself from toppling over.

Natalia never hesitated, twisting to punch him once more. A cold hand wrapped around her wrist, her fist halting inches from his face, and cold grey eyes flashed up to meet hers.

There was lethal glint within those steel orbs.

Natalia feared nothing, thus she never flinched when he looked at her.

Something flickered in The Soldier’s eyes and the corners of his lips tugged up.

Then he blinked and Natalia felt the snap as he broke her wrist.

 

*

 

Natalia was trained effectively.

She graduated before the other girls.

The day they put her onto a cold metallic table, she knew something cruel was going to happen. They never strapped her down, simply injecting her with a blue and red serum before they took her to the cold white room.

She saw the tool, gleaming silver and sterilized. She never closed her eyes as cold hands grabbed her legs and planned her bare feet on top of the table. She stared up at the bright white light before it was moved to be shown down between her legs. She never winced when she felt something being shoved into her.

When a tear escaped her eye, she turned and hide her face.

The tear had dried and vanished by the time they were done with her.

She’d never felt so cold and empty.

 

That night, they relocated her to a new room, far away from the other Widows.

The walls in the room were dark red and the bed was large enough to fit her small body.

She stripped herself from her clothes, changing into a similar pair only cleaner.

The air around her shifted and Natalia spun, arm and fist aiming for whatever stood behind her.

A flash of sliver cut through the dark air and a cold hand wrapped around her wrist, her curled fist inches form his face.

Cold grey eyes ran over her face and the metal fingers circled her wrists eased in grip.

“ _Did they do it?_ ” His deep voice sounded rougher as Russian words were spoken.

Natalia nodded and he dropped her wrist, allowing her arm to drop. Natalia turned and met his eyes, revealing nothing yet knowing he saw more than he let on.

_“Did it hurt?”_

_“Pain is not a problem.”_

He exhaled through his nose, his jaw flexing yet his expression remained indifferent.

Natalia waited for him to say more.

He never did.

Instead, he nodded and turned. His body, large in stature and agile in motion made no sound as he crossed the room and opened her door.

He paused outside, head lowering. She watched as his shoulders tightened with tension, breathing calmly he turned his head to the side, eyes remaining fixed on the floor.

_“Do not let them win.”_

He opened the door and slipped out.

Natalia exhaled, and sunk onto her bed.

The coldness, which had vanished for a second in The Soldier’s presence returned. Curling her arm around her waist, Natalia bend forward. She closed her eyes and reminded herself she would survive this too.

She would.

She had too.

 

*

 

Their first mission together ended coldly and silently.

They effectively took out their respective targets with deadly precision. The Soldier met her a mile away from her target’s location on a motorbike. Natalia’s body shivered against the cold winter air of Siberia, her Widow suit offering no warmth or protection.

She curled her arms around his waist as she straddled the motorbike. The Soldier took off the second her feet left the ground.

His large body shielded her from the worse of the biting winds and the warmth he exuded took care of the rest.

 

They found their safe house three hours later.

 

He said nothing as he took out the bullet in her arm and she barely flinched when he threaded the needle through her torn skin. She healed faster than most. She wasn’t sure why, but she suspected it was due to the red and blue injections her Handlers gave her growing up.

Natalia followed him as they curled up on the floor, using her arm as support and a soft surface to rest her head upon.

Silence followed until The Soldier’s deep voice filled it, as he whispered. _“You did well, Natalia.”_

Her heart quickened but she revealed nothing. Remaining silent, she turned her head and then her body, eyes finding his silhouette in the dark room.

He turned his head to look at her, his lips lifting as though to smile.

Natalia kept her eyes on him, and he never blinked.

Slowly, as though reading each other’s minds, they leaned in. His arm glowed in the dark as what little light the moon provided cut through the curtains to touch his arm, dancing over it as though to demonstrate its danger to her.

However, Natalia never feared it.

Though she should, something within her never truly believed he would use his arm until ordered to by others. She was the same.

She didn’t want to kill anyone. She felt the monster within her thirst for the blood of her enemies, but she never satisfied it unless told to.

As warm lips pressed against hers, Natalia felt the hollowness with her quiver. She closed her eyes at the touch, allowing her body to lean into the kiss, slowly moving her lips to return it. He kissed her softly and gently and the act appeared to be foreign and counter-intuitive to the man she knew.

She wondered if he was like her.

If he had had a life before the Red Room. She didn’t remember much of those days, yet glimpses were offered to her as she slept, providing her with the comfort and the promise of a better life if she survived.

Natalia didn’t believe she would ever escape her Handlers in the Red Room. She wasn’t the naive little girl who pleaded for her mama and papa. But she knew life had more to offer than this.

A hand cupped her cheek and his lips left hers.

Opening her eyes, Natalia watched as The Soldier pulled away and returned to his previous position, head dropping to the cold hard floor, eyes blank and fixed to the ceiling.

She lowered back down and rested her head on her curled-up arm.

“ _I think…_ ” His face shifted and the corner of his lips pressed together. Natalia waited for him to continue. “ _I think my name was… James_.”

_James…_

She allowed herself to reveal a sliver of emotion, her lips moving to a small smile. “James…” She spoke the name.

It was not a Russian name.

She had her suspicion that the man who they called “The Soldier” was not Russian like her. Though he spoke Russian and had a Russian accent, his tone held a twinge of something foreign…

The Soldier--- James turned his head to look at her, grey eyes steel cold yet swimming with caution.

Then, Natalia smiled at him.

 

*

 

They went on several missions together.

Natalia remembered them all.

She never questioned her orders when they were given to her. She never blinked when James appeared in her room back in the Motherland in the dead of night to kiss her slowly and sweetly and she never spoke to him when they were in the presence of others.

Their actions were forbidden.

They were never ordered not to be intimate, but emotions were a distraction and distractions promised death, so Natalia knew better than to speak of the moments which occurred behind closed doors.

As their relationships moved and the coldness which encompassed her soul surrendered to the warmth James exuded, Natalia found herself becoming hopeful.

The night they had sex in their safe house in Italy, James had stripped her of her Widow suit and worshiped every inch of her body. She felt her body react and respond to his touch in a way it never did.

She felt something grow within her that night, taking root within the depths of her soul and within the darkness of her heart. She feared to give it a name.

As she laid in his arms, curled around his heated body, she closed her eyes and held onto the unknown emotion.

 _“No one can know._ ” James whispered to her.

_“I know.”_

His metal fingers threaded through her hair and Natalia sighed softly.

_“They will keep us apart.”_

_“I know this, James.”_ She turned her head and pressed a kiss to his chest in a futile attempt to silence his fears. Her eyes traced the angry red skin that surrounded the attachment site of the metal arm. Her heart ached for him, imagining the pain he must have suffered through and all he had lost.

_“I won’t let them take you away from me.”_

She knew she was not meant to hear those words, they were whispered too quietly to be meant for someone other than himself. But she did.

Natalia lifted herself up, and the arm curled around the naked body dropped. His long dark hair felt soft as she sunk her fingers through it, her thumb stroking his temple soothingly.

 _“You care for me.”_ It wasn’t a questions, merely a simple truth.

James nodded, boldly meeting her eyes. _“You have resurrected something within me.”_

_“The man you were before?”_

James shook his head.

Natalia leaned down, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. _“You are a good man, James.”_

She knew monsters and she knew he was not one. Monster’s do not have kind eyes.

He said nothing, only lifted his head to capture her lips.

 

*

 

Happiness was a fantasy.

It was a gift granted to those who were delusional enough to believe it truly existed.

She had been one of those fools.

Natalia was not sure how they came to find out.

She was so sure they had kept their relationship a secret but somehow their Handlers discovered the truth.

 

“Natalia.” She remembered them calling her name, smirks fixed upon their faces as they watched her stand up.

James’ expression never wavered when his Handler ordered him to _break_ her.

As they came to stand before the other, she saw a shift in James’ expression. Had she blinked; she would have missed it. Regret and pain tightened his eyes and her heart burned as she moved her body, assuming the position.

James looked to his Handler.

He looked at Natalia.

His lips twitched and he lunged.

Her body screamed and her hands and legs protested as she used them to inflict pain on her lover. She pushed past the agony, blinked away the blurriness that impaired her vision when his metal fist slammed against her jaw.

She didn’t blame him.

She knew he hated this as much as she did.

When it ended and her body was broken but her heart still beating, she felt James step up behind her to curl his human arm around her neck before slowly beginning to apply pressure.

He was waiting, she realized as breathing became a hardship; he was waiting for them to order him to stop.

They never did.

A hot breath touched her ear and his voice washed over her. “Forgive me.” He said in English and then his arm flexed, and her vision blackened out.

They took them to the same room.

She listened, paralyzed from the injection as James’ screams were muffled against something. A chilling electric sound echoed across the room. His screaming never stopped.

A gas mask was placed over her nose and she faded into nothing with his screams still reverberating through her soul.

 

*

 

 _“Love is for children.”_ They told her afterward.

 

*

 

James became nothing but a ghost to her. A ghost who haunted her heart and plagued her thoughts as months turned into years and as life left hundreds of body at her hands.

Natalia fought to survive.

When all felt lost, she remembered James’ voice as he whispered to her: _You are my tomorrow._

She needed to make it to tomorrow.

Tomorrow may be theirs.

 

*

 

The color of James’ eyes was all she could remember.

She hardly aged and as decades passed, The Black Widow reclaimed Natalia’s body.

The Red Room send her out on missions.

She infiltrated countries and became multiple versions of herself.

Soon, Natalia Romanova became nothing but a memory, connected only to one person who she hardly remembered too.

 

*

 

She was on mission in Romania when he found her.

She was not sure how, but he did, sneaking into her safe house in the dead of night.

Her knife found home in his human arm and her Spider bites disarmed his other before he could so much as blink. The lower half of his face was covered by the mask his Handlers forced him to wear.

Something within her surged to life at the sight of him, a long since poisoned part of her heart. Natasha leaped in the air and James twisted around but her legs wrapping around his head in a counterattack.

She slammed her elbow against his head, and he rushed over to the far-right corner of the room before he slammed her against the wooden table. The structure collapsed under the impact and her legs lost their grip momentarily.

But that was all he needed.

He twisted out of hold and soon the sharp edge of her knife pressed threateningly against her neck. Natasha tensed and glared up at him.

 _“You know me.”_ He uttered the words as though to threaten her with the information. She pressed her lips together and remained silent.

If he were to kill her, she would not give him the satisfaction of breaking her again. “You know me!” He forced out urgently, grey eyes wide and boring into her. His hair, long and dirty hung down the sides of his face in limp strands. She saw a cut in the process of healing above his eye and she wondered if he was sent to kill her.

“Natalia…” He whispered her name then and Natasha blinked.

She looked deeper, past the anger storming in his murderous eyes, past the hatred which hardened his features to see the confusion swimming within the hurricane of his mind.

She swallowed and left the sharp edge of her knife kiss her vulnerable neck as she said. “James?”

He froze.

Then he exhaled harshly, the hand holding the knife dropping as he stumbled back and away from her. The knife cluttered to the floor and James released a muffled scream as he sunk to his knees, hands clutching his head.

Natalia rushed over to him, hands finding his face, forcing him to look into her eyes. Wordlessly, her dexterous fingers found the straps of his masks. The second it came off his face, she tossed it aside.

Confusion and fear swirled around in his stormy orbs. He met her stare, searching her features for anything recognizable and she took the time to take him in too. He hadn’t aged a day since she last saw him, his handsome features held the same sharp lines, and gentle curves.

His metal arm twitched, and James looked down at it in confusion.

Without hesitation, Natalia reached down and tore the bit off. Relief softened James’ tense expression and she felt her heart quicken at the sight.

_“I remember you…”_

She cocked her head to the side, and his eyes locked with hers. _“They made you forget me.”_

James nodded. He lifted his flesh hand and gently caressed Natalia’s cheek, callous fingers soothing against her skin. _“They burned you away.”_

She stared at him. _“Not all of me.”_

Lips touches hers, briefly, and she allowed it.

 _“Never again.”_ He said to her when they draw apart.

She neither accepted nor renounced the oath. Faith was for children and she knew the lengths the Soviet Nation would go to ensure their spies remained loyal to the cause.

_“What did they do to you? Do you know?”_

James nodded. _“They wipe me after every mission. They do not want to risk my memories returning. The programming is defective.”_ He reported shortly.

Her expression remained stoic as she processed the information. _“You will forget ever seeing me.”_ She concluded.

 _“But I will remember you again.”_ He replied. His metal arm whirled, the plates shifting, and Natalia remained calm as he lifted the weapon to her face to framing it between his hands. _“They cannot take you away from me.”_

She swallowed the urge to deny this. Her heart, though cold and broken from the years of blood and destruction she had inflicted upon the world, fluttered as she looked upon the man who’s given her more than she would have hoped for.

 _“Kiss me.”_ She voiced.

And he did.

 

*

 

He found her again.

He killed her target and another who’d been moment’s away from putting a bullet through her head. Natalia never acknowledged him and returned to her new safe house. James was there, looking at her with clear eyes. His lips, smooth and curled at the corners tugged up as though to smile.

_“I remember.”_

She stalked over to him and he met her halfway, their lips finding each other like two halves of a whole. Their clothes joined each other on the floor and her bed squeaked as their weight dropped onto it. She kissed him as roughly and bitingly as she could, and he didn’t hold back.

Natalia forced the woman who’d come to care for the man above her to return to her body, to remind her that all hope was not lost.

It couldn’t be.

If James had been able to find his way to her, then the darkness which held them apart could not win in the end after all.

She lost a part of herself in him that night. She promised herself to never forget the feeling of his lips against hers, burned the memories and feelings which erupted in her into her mind, lest she gets burned from his.

 

Natalia had truly believed she’d defeat the Red Room, but she was wrong.

They found out.

And, instead of taking her from him… they took him from her.

 

*

 

“Love is for children.” Echoed the phrase long after they had taken him from her mind.

 

*

 

Natalia Romanov moved like a shadow in the night.

A Widow in the dark corners of the world, biting her unsuspecting victims, poisoning them with her lethal hands. Their deaths were often slow, often quick. It depended on her orders.

She nodded when handed another mission.

She returned when her mission was completely.

Until, she met Clint Barton.

 

*

 

“You should have killed me when you had the chance.” Natalia told him, her knife inches from his neck.

The blond nodded, eyes dropping to her lips. He was reading her lips. She knew he has deaf; his hearing aids having dropped during their fight and had been lost during their scuffle.

She should kill him, but she didn’t.

“I know. But I’m here to offer you a way out.”

“I don’t need your help.” She pressed the edge of the blade harder against his neck, watching as blood gathered over the cut and ran down the column of his throat.

“Maybe not. But you want it. I can tell.” He replied, lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk. “Come with me and we’ll take those sons of bitches down.”

Americans… always so optimistic and hopeful.

“We can’t be stopped.”

Barton swallowed. “Maybe not, but we’ll never know if we don’t try.”

“There is no ‘we’.”

Clint’s blue eyes met hers and she saw the stubbornness within them. “You come with me and I promise you we will take from them what they took from you.”

She wanted to scoff at the idea. But she didn’t.

In the end, she left with him.

 

A decision she will come to remember and smile about years later.

 

*

 

“Nat.”

She turned at the sound of Clint’s voice. Concerned blue eyes met hers, gaze dropping to the bullet wound in her stomach.

“I’m fine.” She reassured him.

He nodded, stepping further into the room she was being treated in. He reached over and plucked a clean black shirt from the pile the staff provided, handing it to her. “I know you are. Doesn’t mean I can’t check up on you.”

She smiled at him, taking the shirt and putting it on.

It took years of training and psychological evaluations before her broken mind slowly began to mend itself. It wasn’t an easy process and often time she found it difficult to detangle her real memories from those implanted into her mind by the Red Room.

However, one truth she never doubted was Clint’s loyalty and love. The blond took a seat in one of the vacate chairs beside the hospital bed, reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a small memory care and a piece of paper.

“I found this in our safe house when I returned.” Soft blue eyes met hers. “There was a note.”

She frowned, reaching over to take it from Clint’s offering hand.

She opened the note, eyes running over the words.

Her heart tightened but she was unsure why…

 

_**All they took from you.** _

_**They can no longer find you.** _

 

She knew immediately who it was from, her hand dropping to press against her bullet wound. Clint was at her side in an instant.

“Nat?” He asked gently, hand resting on her shoulder in comfort. “You know who left it?”

She nodded. “I think so.”

“Do you know why?”

She turned her head to look at him, a small smile growing on her lips. “To save me.”

Exhaling a breath of relief, Clint turned her around and pulled her into his arms. Years had passed and he was still the only one she felt comfortable embracing. His sweet and kind heart had helped a great deal over the course of their partnership and subsequent friendship. One passionate night never changed their relationship, it only seemed to strengthen it.

“We need to get this to Nick and have Maria ensure it isn’t dangerous.” She said to him as she pulled away.

“On it.” He looked down at the memory card before lifting his head to meet her eyes. “You know what this is?”

“Yes. But I want to make sure before I do anything with it.”

“Okay.”

 

*

 

She gained a family as the years went by.

The Avengers filled the hole in the heart The Red Room had torn agape and left to rot. Clint and his family healed her with their love and acceptance. His children revealed to her the pureness of love and the goodness of the world she had been forced to ignore and distrust.

Then… Nick was killed, and Steve opened the wound within her soul with honest words and sincere eyes.

 

“What do you want me to be?”

“How about a friend?”

 

She wanted to tell him then, but she didn’t know how.

James was not his Bucky.

The two men were as different as Natalie Rushman and Natalia Romanova.

When they were able to destroy Hydra’s poisonous influence on the world, she returned to Avenger’s tower where Tony had promised her and Steve asylum. The billionaire attempted to comfort Steve with promises to fix Barnes and built him a better arm.

The day she and Steve revealed to Tony the truth they suspected about James, the billionaire fell silent, body slumping back against his chair. Pepper, who’d been with them per Natasha’s request, had pressed a hand to her mouth to muffle the gasp which escaped her.

“It wasn’t him, Tony.” Steve defended his childhood friend as best he could without harming his current friend in the process. “But you deserve to know the truth before you built him anything or help him with anything.”

Pepper had moved and circled her arms around Tony’s shoulders, hands rubbing his chest and arm soothingly. “Tony…”

Natasha spoke up then. “I understand if you want to blame him. I don’t think you are wrong to.” Broken brown eyes looked up and met hers. She saw the urging in his eyes and so she continued, “But I know what James did was not under his control. The Soviet’s, and Hydra, they take your freewill and make you believe the blood your spilt would make the world a better place.”

She saw Steve’s head snap over to her, blue eyes burning into her profile at the sound of familiarity as she said his best friend’s name.

Natasha went on. “The world we live in is altered by perception. And often your world and my world are not the same place.”

Tony’s eyes searched hers and she waited patiently for him to absorb what she’d told him. When he did, he exhaled a shaking breath. “I need to think.”

Steve stood up, nodding. “Take you time, Tony.”

Natasha followed after him, dropping a supportive hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You need to know anything; you can come ask me. I won’t lie to you.”

Pepper gave her a soft, thankful smile which Natasha returned in kind before she turned and left.

Barely, three steps out of the lab, Steve was at her side, hand curling around her arm to stop her in her tracks. Natasha turned gracefully and Steve dropped his hold.

“You knew him.”

Natasha looked at him. “I knew a version of him.”

“You _knew_ him.” The accusation in Steve’s tone was clearer than day.

She didn’t bother to hide her deception. “There is a lot you don’t know about me, Steve.”

“You should have told me this.”

“It would have changed nothing.”

“You don’t know that.”

Her calm mask shifted into one of comfort and regret. Stepping forward, Natasha placed a gentle hand on Steve’s chest. “When you’re ready to talk about Peggy, I’ll tell you about James.”

The implication behind her words were clear and she saw the realization dawn upon Steve about who James was to Natasha. Wordlessly, she patted his chest before turning around, needing the sanctity of her room and the comfort of privacy.

 

*

 

“I’ll help him.” Tony told them the next day.

“Thank you, Tony.” The relief in Steve’s tone is apparent and Tony, being the emotionally constipated man that he was, rolled his eyes rather than respond to it appropriately.

“Don’t thank me yet, Capsicle.”

 

*

 

A month went by before Steve gently knocked on her door one fateful night.

“Can we talk?”

She put her laptop away and nodded. “Of course.”

 

*

 

She heard him before she saw him.

Her room in Avenger’s tower was secured, every corner bugged with motion sensors both in and outside her selected perimeter, with Stark configuring it to ensure it recognized specific people, alerting her if an unknown individual had breached her room.

He was not an unknown individual.

Slowly, she pushed her covered off her upper body, letting it pool around her waist. She wasn’t sure how he'd accessed her room, and tomorrow she’d meet with Tony to search for more blind spots and weakness within the system.

“James?” She asked.

Natasha knew hearing his name triggered something within him. She’d seen it with her very eyes.

The only flaw in her plan was Hydra discovering it and rectifying the defect in the Winter Soldier’s programming.

Grey eyes flashed and the shadows around him hovered cover his frame, terrified to touch him yet yearning to be in his presence. Darkness was a concept James had trained her to accept and to use to her advantaged to ensure it was never used against her. Both the darkness around her and the darkness within her.

“Do they know?” He asked her, his deep voice emotionless however his eyes revealed to her the truth.

It was a truth he wanted her to see, yet he was cautious to voice it.

“They know. Steve knows. Tony knows.” She remained in bed, her eyes running over his body. She found a total of ten weapons strapped to his persons, the tenth being James himself. Licking her lips, she continued. “You are welcome to stay.”

He looked at her for a moment, turned his head to glance at the bedroom door. A tense silent minute passed before he nodded and moved further into her room. His metal hand was curled in a fist, rays of moonlight dancing off the lethal length.

She turned her head and watched as he claimed the chair in the far-right corner of her room. He sat down, spine straight with grey eyes fixed on all the points of entrance. Natasha lowered herself down onto the bed, curling up the right so as to keep him in her sight.

She didn’t sleep that night, and neither did he.

 

*

 

Natasha watched with cool green eyes as James greeted Steve with a nod and a slight smile.

A month had passed since he’d returned and he was still very much part of the man she knew, with variations of himself slipping through in the presence of Steve. She warned Steve about getting too attached to James, informing him that heartbreak and loss could only be dealt with so many times, before the soul could bear no more.

“It’s okay.” Steve’s blue eyes, hopefully yet dejected, met hers and he gave her a sweet smile. “I know he’s not Bucky, not really, but I got my best friend back and I’m not going to waste the time I have with him.”

“He’s not your best friend anymore.” She hated to tell him, but he needed to know the truth, however bitter the pill was to swallow.

“Then I’ll get to know this Bucky.” He stated, stubborn as the sun on a summer morning.

She smiled and nodded, accepting his answer.

 

*

 

James preferred to be called Bucky by Steve only.

He preferred to be called Barnes by the other Avengers.

He responded only to James if Natasha was the only to use the name.

 

*

 

He never touched her, and she never touched him.

He moved into her bed three months into his stay at the Avenger’s tower, but they never moved into the other’s space.

He placed a weapon between himself and every Avenger he met. It took Natasha a day to notice and three days to confirm it.

When she asked him that night, he responded, “To ensure the safety of those around me, it’s best they have a weapon nearby.”

Sam came to visit, offering his support and counsel if need be. James took the card Sam offered and nodded with a grateful yet hesitant smile.

Clint introduced James to Lucky and the furball was the first of them all James allowed to touch him. Afterward, Lucky made frequent visits to the Avenger’s Tower and James silently thanked the dog for his comfort and support with six to eight slices of pizza.

 

*

 

When Natasha returned from some of her missions with Steve, she allowed the Captain to spend time with James as they shared a bottle of beer. Steve would ask him if he remembered the day something particularly unmemorable occurred and Natasha would watch as a frown tightened James’ features and as his grey eyes danced back and forth before he shook his head.

“No, tell me.” He’d say and Steve would happily recount the memory.

 

*

 

Tony Stark reached out to the crowned Prince of Wakanda to discuss James’ programming and seven months later, James declined their treatment.

“I’m not leaving.” He said, grey eyes finding Natasha as he said this.

She nodded, keeping her thoughts to herself.

 

*

 

That night, she felt him leave their bed.

She waited patiently for an hour before she followed him out into the lounge room, finding him reclined on a couch. She paused beside his head and James looked at her for a moment before he lifted himself up into a seated position.

When she claimed the empty place, she bit back the shock which struck her when James lowered himself back down, his head weighing down on her thigh. Gingerly, she lifted a hand, watching and waiting for him to stop her and when he didn’t, she threaded her fingers through his hair.

Long dark strands covered the width of her thigh and Natasha gently ran her fingers through them.

“You think I should do it.”

“It’s not my decision to make.” She looked down at him.

His accent had long since faded as his memories, however fragmented, returned to him. Some days, as she listened to him speak to Steve and Sam, a twinge of his Brooklyn drawl made itself known. The more Steve spend time with him, the more pronounced his accent began.

James inhaled, lips shifting as he swallowed. “I don’t want to be like this forever.”

“Then don’t be.” She continued her ministration. “You are in control now, James.”

Grey eyes met hers and she held the stare, allowing him to see the honesty behind her words and the promise within them.

“I’ll think about.”

She smiled, joy and happiness filling her at the simple phrase.

Natasha nodded and James’ lips tugged up into lopsided smile.

 

*

 

“Natalia?”

The bed shifted and Natasha rolled over to face them.

He reached up and she waited and held still, breathing calmly and slowly. When cool fingertips brushed against her cheeks, she blinked and found her vision swimming as tears formed. A thumb brushed the fallen drops away.

“You’re crying.” He observed; his tone bewildered.

She smiled as she felt his thumb gently caress the apple of her cheek. She wanted to close her eyes at the touch, sink into its gentleness but she didn’t want to miss this moment.

“My… _family_ ,” She selected the word, “has helped me a lot. They’ve shown me the strength in emotions.” She told him.

And they have. She wished and hoped they would do the same for James in time.

“I’m happy you found them.” He smiled, grey eyes thinning on the corners as he did so. “They’re good people.”

“The best. With their apparent flaws and all.” She joked, her heart leaping when she evoked a deep laugh from James.

They fell asleep that night a few spaces closer than ever before. His hand finding hers in the darkness.

 

*

 

“Bucky!”

“What?”

“You want to spar? Show Sam and Clint how its done?”

Grey eyes met hers and Natasha smirked encouragingly.

Shrugging, James pushed over the bowl of fruit salad he’d been eating toward Natasha. She happily plucked a strawberry, smiling when she noticed almost all the pineapples were gone. Bruce had provided James with a nutritious diet, giving him a list of meals which could be made with the food James found comfortable consuming.

Their fridge contained nothing which reminded him of the dietary options Hydra had forced him to eat.

With a wink, James left the kitchen counter and followed after Steve.

Clint looked over at her, meeting her eyes with a joyful grin. Flashing his teeth, he gave her a thumbs up.

 

*

 

They were sleeping in their room when she felt his hand slither under her shirt, palm touching the planes of her stomach.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into her ear.

Natasha said nothing, simply threaded her fingers through his and pressed their hands firmly against her flat stomach.

He didn’t sleep that night.

And neither did she.

 

*

 

When the Avenger’s came over per Tony’s announcement that Saturday night meant Movie Night, Natasha found herself laughing and grinning whenever Clint and Sam did something ridiculous such as wrap their arms around each other and flap the free limbs, proclaiming themselves the ‘ _Birds of Prey_ ’.

She shook her head at them and James threw a packet of gummy worms at Sam’s head.

“Hey, watch it, Buck.” Steve shouted from the other side where he and Thor were sharing some Asgardian mead. “They might flock you and demand more.”

“Fuck you, Steve.” Sam shot back.

“Yeah, fuck you, Rogers.”

“I NEED ANOTHER!” Thor exclaimed and before he could drop the glass of whiskey in his hand, Bruce jerked forward and snatched it out of his hand

. “I’ll get you some.” The scientist offered.

“I’ll assist.” Thor grinned at him and together the pair disappeared into Tony’s liquor room.

Tony grumbled under his breath. “They better not be fucking in there.”

Pepper slapped his arm. “Tony!”

“What?”

James turned and looked over in the direct Thor and Bruce had vanished. “They’re together?”

She saw the fear which tightened his features the longer he looked at the empty space. Subtly she shifted over, her hand touching James’ arm to draw his attention away. Grey eyes found hers and she saw the need to rush over and tear the two apart in his eyes.

“They’re okay.” She whispered to him. “It’s consensual, I promise you.”

Grey eyes flickered back and forth, searching for any signs of deception. She recalled the day James had revealed to Clint the various methods of torture and abuse he’d endured at the hands of Hydra.

_“They always used touch to control me. That and more.”_

She’d found Steve shortly after and sparred with him for three hours.

With one last glance back, James looked at her and nodded.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention and she turned to meet concerned blue eyes. She gave Steve a small smile and, after a few conflicting moments between the instinct to help his friend and the knowledge to not be overbearing, Steve reluctantly nodded.

“Bucky, pass me the Doritos.” He called out.

The words triggered Sam, Clint, Tony and Maria who jumped on the running joke, cutting through the tension building within James, while simultaneously providing him with a distraction.

Black metal fingers slipped between hers and Natasha tightened her hold on James’ hand. Slowly, they leaned back against the couch, watching the team mock and toss insults back and forth.

 

*

 

The day James was captured and reactivated was one of the worst days of her life.

Natasha felt her soul and heart hardened in fear, her mind instinctively shielding her from the collateral damage she knew would be waiting on the other side of the nightmare.

Steve and Clint were merciless as they worked together to find out all they can about the man who’d taken him.

Natasha and Maria worked alone and neither of them ever spoke about the lengths they had to go to in order to find out who had taken James and how they had been able to discover the words which activated The Winter Soldier.

Sam and Tony flew to Wakanda and King T’Challa, upon listening to their reasons and seeing the evidence that it was not James’ behind his father death joined them in their search for the man responsible behind countless of deaths.

When the Sokovia Accords were enforced upon them, none of the Avengers’ yielded.

“If you want to stop us, go ahead.” Tony told Ross point blank. “But let’s face it, we don’t need the world, but the world does need us.”

“I ain’t signing anything.” Sam spoke up. “I know how much the Government controls and this thing sounds more like a leash meant to cage us in than anything else.”

 

*

 

The search and recovery of James left its mark on their reliability on the Government and marred the trust they had with their superiors. They never returned to Avenger’s tower and Tony pulled back most of his funding to SHIELD, citing that he had a business to run and the CEO of Stark Industries believed it would be risky to invest in such a morally skewed organisation.

 

*

 

Steve and Sam followed James and Natasha to Africa where King T’Challa had offered them sanctuary.

“I need go back in.” James told her two nights after their arrival to Wakanda.

Natasha closed her eyes, the words burning her heart more than she’d thought. She knew he’d suggest this after what he’d been forced to do under Zemo’s orders. Lifting herself up from the bed, she shifted and sat up. James mirrored her position, leaning back against the headboard of their bed.

“Have you spoken to T’Challa?”

James nodded. “He assured me the process would be painless and his sister and her team will be monitoring me day and night to ensure nothing happens.” He turned his head and gave her a broken smile. “It’s the right thing to do. Its what’s best.”

She pressed her lips together and swallowed down the burning ball in her throat. “I know.” Exhaling, she gathered herself and asked, “Do you know when you will be ready?”

“Tomorrow.”

Gritting her teeth together, she forced herself to nod. “Okay.”

His hand reached for hers and she willingly opened her fist. Her arm was lifted, and lips brushed against her knuckles. They weren’t sexually intimate, but Natasha had discovered that sex was not really a requirement for a relationship to work.

Sex had always been a weapon for her, to be used to manipulate men and women alike.

James knew its brutal nature.

The intimacy between them was expressed through gentle embraces, loving smiles and sweet laughter.

He lowered her hand and turned to meet her eyes. “I’ll come back to you.”

“I know.”

 

*

 

The day they placed him back in cryo, Natasha stood outside the incubator with Sam and Steve flanking her.

James’ grey eyes met their stares and with a small smile, he closed his eyes as the gas blanketed his form.

A hand fell on her shoulder and she turned to meet Steve’s sad blue orbs.

“You want to stay for a bit?”

She nodded.

Steve squeezed her shoulder.

 

*

 

The months ahead awakened the lonely creature within her soul.

She felt its poisonous breath when she woke up in the middle of the night, arm reaching only for her hand to touch cold, empty sheets.

She felt it grow and coil itself around her heart as her body yearned for James’ presence and she never felt it.

Steve and Clint became one of her closest friends during those months.

Tony and Bruce worked day and night with Shuri and her team, finding methods and cognitive procedures which would effectively block James’ programming.

It was meant to act as mental blockage but their lack of information about James’ torture and Hydra’s methods left too many unknown variables.

Sam and Steve left to search all known destroyed Hydra bases in hopes to find something, while Clint and Natasha delved deeper into the dark, unknown worlds of the Soviet Nation.

Wanda offered her help and Tony and Bruce started her training immediately, educating her on the brain and how and when she should target certain aspects of James’ mind.

It was a last resort, should all these other methods prove ineffective.

Natasha knew James would decline Wanda’s help without thought but she allowed them to work without voicing her opinion. She was not naïve, and since leaving the Red Room, she had learned the value of plans and having contingency plans for her contingency plans.

 

*

 

“Natasha. Steve.”

She looked up, her hand dropping, thumbnail bitten raw. Steve jumped up from his seat and Sam followed soon after.

Bruce gave her a tired smile. “He’s waking up.”

Blue eyes, wide and tearful met hers. She gave Steve a watery smile as she allowed her emotions to get the better of her. A large hand curled around hers and Steve stared at her, anxiety tightening his shoulders.

“You ready?” Steve asked, his voice gruff from hours of disuse.

She nodded and together she and Steve walked over to Bruce, following behind the doctor as he turned to lead them to James’ room.

Movement from the corner of her eyes draw her attention away from the back of Bruce’s curly head and Natasha came to halt just as Steve did. She turned, her green eyes sharp and alert as they dropped to the two hands stretched out behind them.

“Sam?”

Sam looked at Steve and Natasha saw the small squeeze Sam gave Steve’s fingers. “I’ll be out here, okay?”

Distress tightened the blonde’s features and Natasha shook her head, eyes meeting cautious brown orbs. “He’d want you there.”

Sam looked between the two, and when he nodded, Steve’s broad shoulders dropped as relief momentarily washed over him.

Not wanting to prolong this anymore, she squeezed Steve’s hand. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah.”

 

When they entered the room, Steve exhaled a soft “oh, Buck.”

Natasha moved with him and their hands let go of one another without thought as they claimed each side of James’ bed. Gently, she lifted a hand and ran her fingers through his soft dark strands. Warmth spread from the tips of her fingers and slowly washed over her entire being. A single tear slipped down her cheek.

“We have a lot of work to do. Wanda went inside his head briefly to see what needed blocking. There are specific memories and each trigger word is associated with a specific memory that separates the Winter Soldier from James Barnes. Now that we know which memory, we can treat him effectively to make sure we don’t lose James when we put those blockers in. Of course, that isn’t to say James won’t still have those memories of his time with Hydra, but he won’t be able to be controlled after.”

Natasha listened on as Bruce repeated information she already knew while her eyes traced James’ soft beautiful features. He always appeared at peace when sleeping, his tense mask smoothed out as his mind found some momentary peace. Of course, that peace never lasted, and it was frequently shattered as nightmares plagued his thoughts during his dreams, but Natasha always treasured the moments where she caught a glimpse of this James.

 _Bucky,_ she presumes.

“How long?” Steve asked, his free hand curling around James’ forearm, thumb moving back and forth as though he were coaxing James awake.

Sam’s hand remained a grounding grip on Steve’s shoulder.

“It’s hard to say. We don’t want to give you guys a date and not have it met –”

“Bruce.” Steve cut him off. “How long?”

Natasha removed her eyes off James and turned to regard Bruce.

Sad brown eyes flickered between herself and Steve. He sighed softly, lifting hand to fix the prescription glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “Three years, at the least.”

Blue and green eyes found one another. Steve stared at her and Natasha held the gaze as small, relived smiles touched their lips.

They knew how quickly three years went by. They knew because they have been separated from James for decades, so three years was simply a breath away in comparison.

“Thank you, Bruce.” Natasha turned to give the doctor a rare soft smile.

Bruce smiled back sheepishly. “It was nothing, really. I’ll leave you guys, see if Tony needs help.”

Steve and Natasha watched as the doctor left the room before they turned back to James.

“Gotta admit, he looks good.” Sam said, stepping a little closer to Steve’s side. “Did they style his hair?”

Steve snorted and Natasha grinned. “No, he’s just an unfairly attractive jerk.” Steve shot back.

“That he is.” She smirked at Steve and Sam, the expression softening into a smile when her eyes lowered onto James’ sleeping form just as his brows twitched and curled lips pressed together.

With her breath caged in her lungs, Natasha watched on as thick long lashes fluttered as James’ eyes moving under his eyelids.

Steve’s thumb stilled and he leaned forward. “Bucky?”

James’ head moved to the right, following the sound of Steve’s voice. His lips parted and he exhaled, chest rising and sinking as he does so. Her fingers itched to run through his strands, but she refrained from touching him.

“St… Stevie…?” A soft voice whispered.

A sob tore through Steve at the nickname. She had never heard James’ refer to Steve as _Stevie_ , however judging by the tears slowly pooling in the blonde’s eyes, she inferred that it was a nickname James’ used in the 1940’s.

“Yeah, Bucky. Welcome back.” Steve lowered himself down, becoming eye level with James just as grey eyes were revealed.

Stormy and steely with a touch was warmth, James looked at Steve for a moment. Then a sleepy grin spread across his face. Feeling eyes on her, Natasha looked up and met Sam’s grin, returning it with a smile of her own.

“Steve… you’re here…” James’ ran his eyes over Steve. Then, a small frown furrowed his brows. “Where’s here?”

“In Wakanda. Its been a while, Buck, but Shuri, Tony and Bruce were able to figure out how to help you.”

The peaceful expression faded. “How long?” His frown deepened. “Where’s Natasha?”

_Natasha…_

“Turn your head.” Steve encouraged in gentle and fond tone.

With a confused frown, James lolled his head to the side. Grey eyes met hers and James’ smile grew at the sight of her. “Natalia…”

Swallowing around the burning sensation in her throat, Natasha lifted a hand, fingers dancing over a stubbled cheek and James sighed, leaning into the touch as her palm pressed against his cheek.

“You sure took your time.” She commented.

James snorted. “I know.” He grinned up at her, eyes running over her as he took in her braided hair, red hair twisted together with the last remaining strands of her blonde hair. “You tryin’ something new?”

With a leaping heart dancing in her chest, Natasha managed a cool smirk. “We can’t all have fabulous hair, James.”

“Ain’t that right.” Sam grumbled.

James looked over at the sound of the voice, smirking at Sam when he saw the other man. “Miss me, Wilson?”

“Like a limb.”

“Sam!” Steve admonished just as James let go a rather unattractive snort.

“I know the feeling.” He returned.

“Oh my God.” Steve looked at Natasha for help, but she couldn’t find it in her to take his side.

Joy and warmth flooded her as she witnessed the moment unfold before her eyes. Steve looked incredulously between his best friend and _not-yet-labelled-my-boyfriend-_ boyfriend. She knew Sam made the joke to ease the intensity behind the moment, to allow James to re-accumulate into his new environment as easily as he could.

A hand wrapped around her wrist and squeezed. Natasha looked away from Sam, down to James who smirked up at her.

“What’s a fella gotta do to get a kiss?”

Natasha smirked. “When a _fella_ asks like a gentlemen and not as though he was Tony Stark.”

“Ouch.” James cringed, then his smirk softened, and his eyes lightened. “My beautiful Natalia, may I please kiss you?”

“Well since you asked so nicely.” She met his eyes, holding the stare as she leaned down.

The hand holding her wrist vanished and she felt it press gently against curve of her jaw. Soft and slightly cracked lips pressed against hers and Natasha sighed at the touch. She closed her eyes as James give her a breath-like kiss, simply stroking his lips against hers.

She didn’t move to deepen it and neither did he.

It lasted for a simply sweet second before she found herself straightening up, the smile on her lips never wavering. His hand dropped, remaining stretched over his body as his fingers laced through hers.

Steve and Sam shared a look, smiling at one another before they looked back at James, their eyes and features expressing their joy over his recovery.

“It’s good to have you back, Buck.” Steve said, appearing seconds away from bawling his eyes out.

“Still got a long way to go, Steve.”

Steve nodded. “I know. But I’m still glad to have you here.”

“Yeah, man. We missed you.” Sam grinned.

She saw the doubt swimming in James’ eyes and gave his hand a comforting squeeze. He looked at her and Natasha smiled. “Be prepared for a welcome home party.”

A grin slipped across James’ features and his body sunk into the hospital bed.

 

*

 

She remained in his room, hand holding his as Steve said his goodbyes, his bulking frame hovering over James as he released his best friend from a long hug.

Sam shook his head at them, smiling tiredly.

“I’m come back to tomorrow.” Steve said. “And I’ll speak to Tony to see if I can sneak some movies in and if you’re allowed to eat those gummy bears. We can see about Lucky and –”

“Stevie.” James cut him off. “I love you, man, but you gotta go. Your boyfriend might get jealous.”

Sam snorted. “You can have him. I’m sure me and Natasha can live a very happy life. Right?”

Steve blushed and Natasha chuckled. “In another lifetime, maybe, Wilson.”

“Damn girl.” He mockingly clutched his heart. “I think you might have just broken my heart.”

“And that’s my cue.” Steve turned to Natasha to drop a small kiss on the top of her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow with a vanilla latte.”

“You better.”

James nodded his farewell to Steve and Sam as he had no free hand to wave with and he didn’t seem all to keen to let go of Natasha’s. Just as the door closed, the grin slipped into a more subdued version. Natasha gave him a small, understanding smile, gently brushing her thumb over the bumps of his knuckles.

“It’s still a long way to go.” A sullen tone deepened James’ voice.

Natasha hummed. “He knows that.”

James smiled at her as if to affirm his trust in her judgement. She gave him his moment, silently looking on as James’ eyes ran over her features, skimming over her blond tips, a smile twitching on the corner of his lips when their eyes met briefly before his gaze lowered down her nose.

Neither said much of anything and when James’ eyes started dropping, Natasha gently ran her fingers through his hair, softly promising him she’d be there when he opened his eyes. James nodded, but the grip on her fingers revealed his fear.

“Tomorrow, James. I promise.”

 

*

 

When James opened his eyes, he exhaled softly at the sight of Natasha’s reassuring smirk, the vanilla latte in her hand and the sound of Sam explaining to Steve that he didn’t know, _honestly, he didn’t know_ , how many levels Candy Crush Soda had.

James pressed a soft kiss on her knuckles and Natasha brushed a gentle hand against his cheek.

 

*

 

The day James was scheduled to begin his therapy, he asked Natasha if she could help him cut his hair.

In return, he snipped the last of her blond strands off.

 

*

 

“James?” She whispered to him in the dead of night.

James grumbled in his sleep; his hair though short still falling over his forehead. His chest, skin heated and burning against hers moved as he made room for her to roll over to face him.

She smiled when grey eyes blinked at her, his brows pulling together in a displeased furrow. Running a gentle hand down his arm, she reached for his fingers and brought his hand to her lips.

“That ain’t gonna work.” He whispered; his Brooklyn accent more pronounce.

Five years, and she still couldn’t believe her eyes when she was greeted by the sight James sleeping beside her every morning.

“I love you.” She gently revealed.

Grey eyes met hers. The sleepy expression vanished, and a wide grin took its place. Laughing, James leaned over, body rolling over hers as their lips met. With her laugh muffled by his kiss, she felt her chest bob up and down. James licked her lips and Natasha welcomed him in, lifting a leg to curl around his waist. Her hand reached up and cupped the back of his head, fingers brushing against the short strands.

After a few more kisses, three gentle bites of her bottom lip, James pulled away, brushing the tip of his nose against hers.

Sighing softly, Natasha, curling her hand around his bicep, smiled up at him. She’d never uttered the words before.

She never truly saw any reason to, not with anyone.

She would die for her family, and they would die for her.

They would be there for her, every step of the way as history had proven countless of times, going so far as to turn their backs against the United States Government and risk becoming fugitives if it meant protecting her.

Love may be for children, but only because it was granted and expressed by those innocent of any malicious intent. She grew up in a world where manipulation and bloodlust claimed every second of her life.

The Red Room stripped her of her innocence, therefore she was incapable of love. The Black Widow was not meant to feel. Love was a tool, a weakness she could exploit and twist to ensure her mission was a success, or so she’d been taught.

Until she met _James_.

Lip pressed against hers and Natasha’s gaze flickered up to meet James’ soft, glimmering grey orbs.

“I love you, too, Natalia. Now and forever.”

She tightened her hold on the back of his neck and James happily leaned back down.

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warnings. (Each section with be referenced)
> 
> 1\. James and Natasha are violent toward each other - this is because James is very much the Winter Soldier when he met Natasha and he was there as her training.
> 
> (2 - a glimmer of anger and frustration sparked within Natalia
> 
> 4 - It was Natalia who had brought the Solider to his knees
> 
> 8 - "Natalia" she remembered them calling her name
> 
> 13 - she was on a mission - (ends) He froze.
> 
>  
> 
> 2\. Natasha's steralization
> 
> ( 5 - The day they out her onto a cold metallic table)
> 
> 3\. Mention of sexual abuse - "I'll assist" Thor grinned - (ends) "Bucky, pass me the Doritos".
> 
> Those are the clear triggers I can think of, if there are any please don't hesitate to inform me.
> 
> Another thing:
> 
> 1\. I read somewhere about the knife thing that Bucky does - I am not sure where, but if any one knows where, please let me know so I can reference it.
> 
> 2\. The title is inspired by Sia's - To Be Human
> 
> And Lastly: I want to thank my dear friend who helped me with this fic by providing with information regarding Bucky, his recovery and relationship with others as shown in the comics.


End file.
